


253. Called Out in the Dark

by tveckling



Series: Dare to Write challenge [58]
Category: Dishonored (Video Games)
Genre: M/M, Mentions of Jessamine Daud and Emily, Nightmare, Quick reprise of Jessamine's death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-15
Updated: 2018-03-15
Packaged: 2019-03-31 20:45:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13983006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tveckling/pseuds/tveckling
Summary: Then a hand covered his eyes, and an arm curled around his shoulder, hugging him close to a chest as lips pressed softly against his temple. All he could hear was a soft shush, a gentle voice. “This is nothing but a dream, Corvo. This is your fears taken form, nothing else. Your Emily is safe, asleep just a little distance away. Open your eyes, and see.”





	253. Called Out in the Dark

It was an old scene, but so very familiar that Corvo couldn’t breathe. He stood in the gazebo in front of the Tower, hearing the waves behind him. The weather was bright and warm, such a contrast to his despair, and the way the sunlight hit Jessamine’s face made him want to cry. She was looking at him, calm and absolutely certain that he would protect her, that he wouldn’t let anything happen. 

He reached out, tried to reach out, tried to move his arm, but nothing happened. No matter how he focused, how he tried to force his muscles to move, none of his limbs obeyed him. Opening his mouth instead, desperately relieved to find those muscles working, he yelled at Jessamine to run, Daud was coming. Only to find that no sound came from his mouth. He kept trying, kept screaming the words that only echoed in his head, all the while Jessamine looked at him with a small, affectionate smile. Like there was nothing amiss.

This time he knew what was coming, he knew where the assassin were. Daud appeared behind Jessamine, sword already in hand, and Corvo cried out, throat aching, heart breaking, tears running down his face. He could barely see Daud grab Jessamine, but even so her shocked and pained face was clear. Blood ran from the sword and she looked right at him, tears in the corner of her eyes, reaching out while whispering his name.

Corvo couldn’t reach back.

Then she changed, and it wasn’t Jessamine, and Daud hadn’t yet stabbed the sword. It was Emily, so young, so brave and full of life, not yet a grown woman but having left childhood long behind her. She struggled in Daud’s grip, gritting her teeth when she remained stuck. The sword rose to her neck, and tears ran, and Corvo yelled, tried to get her to stop moving, stop resisting. But she couldn’t hear him. He could see Daud prepare. Time seemed to slow down; he could see the minute movement as the blade neared his daughter’s bare throat, and he cried.

Then a hand covered his eyes, and an arm curled around his shoulder, hugging him close to a chest as lips pressed softly against his temple. All he could hear was a soft shush, a gentle voice. “This is nothing but a dream, Corvo. This is your fears taken form, nothing else. Your Emily is safe, asleep just a little distance away. Open your eyes, and see.”

The hand moved and Corvo blinked open wet eyes, expecting despite the voice to see Emily lying in a pool of her own blood. Instead he found himself standing in Emily’s room, at the end of the bed where Emily slept, curled around her new paramount. Corvo didn’t yet know what to think about this Wyman, but seeing Emily press closer to them with a content sigh made his heart ease.

“You needn’t fear, dear Corvo. Emily is safe.”

With his panic soothed Corvo could recognize the voice, and he wasn’t surprised to find the Outsider standing behind him. “Did you really pull me out of my own dream?” he asked, feeling the strange urge to laugh.

The Outsider’s face softened and he reached out to swipe his thumb across Corvo’s face, gathering up a tear. “You called for help. For me. I couldn’t ignore it, nor did I want to. I don’t enjoy seeing you hurt, and if it is within my power I would alleviate whatever pain you might feel.”

Corvo chuckled, shaking his head. His head was full, making it hard to think clearly. When he opened his eyes again they were in his own bedroom, the Outsider standing in front of him, with his hand still raised a warm weight on Corvo’s face. It was strange, because the few times they had touched in the past the Outsider has always been cold. Not now, though.

Perhaps the Outsider had sensed his thoughts, because he began to pull back. Corvo was quicker, however, and stopped him, grabbing his hand before it had gotten far from his face. “You don’t need to,” he began, awkward, “I mean. I… It feels good. You’re warm.”

The Outsider blinked, endlessly black eyes somehow managing to express surprise, but then he loosened his fist to cup Corvo’s face with a smile. “You still manage to surprise me, my dear Corvo,” he murmured.

Corvo didn’t know what to say to that, so he just took a step closer, watching with only half a mind the Outsider’s visible curiosity, and leaned his forehead against the Outsider’s. He had to bend down a little, for the first time realizing that the Void god was shorter than him, but he didn’t mind. He could hear the Outsider breathe, felt his warmth not only through the hand on his face. His whole presence seemed to wrap around Corvo who wanted to nothing more than to sink into it.

“You’re certainly bolder than usual,” the Outsider remarked, hooded eyes focused on Corvo’s lips. “Might it be because you’re dreaming? A state where you can release some of your inhibitions. Or is it because of your earlier nightmare and the way your fear played with the rest of your emotions? This is more than a dream, but less than your woken awareness, perhaps-“

“I don’t care,” Corvo said, snorting at the look on the Outsider’s face. He never did enjoy being interrupted. “You’re talking too much.”

“And what would you have me do instead? Stand here silently until you wake up?”

Corvo smiled again. Perhaps there was something in the Outsider’s words, but for whatever reason Corvo did feel calm and at ease, and he did feel bold, bolder than he’d been in a long time. “Stay with me. Not like this, it will get uncomfortable in time. The bed is soft, however.”

The Outsider laughed, a sound that took Corvo by surprise with its sheer normalcy. It was light, full of amusement. Like it could have come from anyone. He stepped away from Corvo, towards the bed, and while his hand left Corvo’s face it didn’t leave Corvo’s hand. “You, my Corvo, only ever have to ask. If it is within my power I will give it to you, whatever you may want.”

His smile was wicked but also soft, tenderness in every word and gesture, and Corvo could only smile back. Already he longed for the warmth of the Outsider’s body, the old and protective presence; their joined hands was but a small thread by which Corvo pulled closer. The Outsider laughed again the moment before Corvo stole the sound from his lips.


End file.
